Not the End of the World: Part 2
by Taigne
Summary: Quatre has called off his and Trowa's faultering relationship. In theory it was what Trowa wanted, but since when has practise been so simple? And how exactly was going to a bar with Duo supposed to help? Yaoi. Het. Trowa PoV. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: don't own 'em, never will. 

Warnings/Pairings: language, Trowa POV, venting, 2+5, previous 4x3

Sequel to 'Not the End of the World: Part 1', but can be read as a stand alone piece.

The story so far: 2 years after the war of AC 195 (EW didn't happen), Quatre has recently called off his and Trowa's faultering relationship. In theory, it was what Trowa wanted, but since when has practise been so simple? As Trowa mused over the situation, Duo, not the closest of his friends, knocked on his door. Trowa went to answer, despite the odd sense of foreboding at the arrival.

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**Contrast, Adaptation and Masking.**

I'm on a train. What do you mean, wasn't Duo at my door? Precisely. Which is why I'm on a train. Being obtuse. I'm too angry to explain just now. I'm sitting wishing I wasn't on a train. Sort of.

My ears pop as we enter a short tunnel, and there's an annoying 'ding-dong' of the intercom of the train steward for the duration of this journey, Michael. I know that's his name because he's introduced himself at every opportunity. This time he's telling us which changes to make for various places I don't want to get to and apologising for the delay due to leaves on the track. To be truthful I am neither bothered about how long this journey takes, nor where I end up. Michael's annoying distractions are, in fairness to him, not distracting me from anything in particular.

If I was being petty, which I probably am, I could complain he was making it hard for me to hear the couple in front of me. They're talking rather loudly, but also listening to music, despite the fact that this is a 'Quiet Zone' and so 'phones, laptops and players aren't technically allowed. I don't want to hear their twittering, but I'm feeling deservedly masochistic, so I'm trying to listen anyway. Derogatory and sarcastic? Two of my best qualities I assure you.

My favourite couple seem to be returning from boarding schools, he from the army, but the woman I'm not sure about. That's what I was trying to discern when Michael so rudely interrupted me. Now she's gone off on a tangent about the lovely rabbits which can be seen hopping about surprisingly calmly as the train pulls up to the platform in the middle of nowhere. We're not more than 10 metres from some of them; it's amazing what creatures can get used to. I smile at the thought of the circus and the animals there; Cathy emailed me about her promotion last week. But the smile resolves to my mask for this trip, a friendly 'don't bother me' grimace as I recall what I'm doing here. I just wish… No, actually I don't, wishing is not a good idea while I'm so unfocused. It takes a lot to get me riled up usually. This was such a little thing too. I wish I wasn't so confused. Oops.

I turn to stare out of the window for want of a better pastime. The sun glares sharp and yellow-grey over the flats that break up the cityscape horizon as we pull into the next station, apparently the previous stop was the outskirts, hence the relatively short journey to the city central. I wonder idly how many stops to my station. Michael chimes in with all information but the answer to my question. Typical. Not that it matters, I'm going to the end of the line anyway. As we leave the platform behind, the building outside are close enough to read their graffiti and observe the crumbling mortar between dirty red bricks.

The accents of my mystery couple are grating. She's started a tirade about the mayonnaise in a chicken sandwich. I wish she's go back to the quasi singing produced as she was attempting to accompany her music. It's all just serving to keep me annoyed, tense and unreasonable. At least the guy next to me isn't a talker. I've made it really easy for him not to talk to me by not looking at him or even remotely in his direction since he sat down. Time passes, as I amuse myself by exerting the effort to not strangle the girl in front. Oh good, at the next 'ding-dong', my neighbour stands and fished out his luggage from the overhead. But I don't feel all that relieved to tell you the truth. It's an odd feeling I get in a failed social situation, a sickly guilt and revulsion. And yet it is a testament to my developing social skills and graces that I no longer freeze at the prospect of someone sitting in such close proximity. I still get uncomfortable and awkward, but I could probably cope with a simple conversation now. Pissyness not withstanding.

I realised a while ago that I want to write a novel some day. I don't know what about yet, I just want that feeling of achievement I assume one must get from such an endeavour. I like words so much more when they're on paper. I should not be allowed to conduct relationships in person, I'm never who I want to be then. I stop before getting any further with that one. Back to the up front entertainment. Oh god, now they're discussing with twin tones of disbelief how many Mancunians there are in Manchester. That's it.

I stand abruptly, narrowly avoiding too-low luggage rack and wander through to the next carriage. My mind is flitting even more erratically than usual now. You've come to expect it though, haven't you? Bollocks to it, you try fighting armies in a mobile suit, infiltrating enemy strongholds and suffering from amnesia at 15 and see how much sense you make. I wonder what Duo's doing now. I hope Wufei got in touch. Hilde will look after him. Hilde and her friend Shorya will keep him calm. Just like I'm not doing.

'Her friend Shorya'. I'm such a loser. You know, I never even had a problem with my sexuality until yesterday. Or was it this morning? How could I do it, any of it? Blaming the alcohol helps explain the actions but not the emotions alongside them. Falling hard and too fast for a stranger. How much have I lost to allow that? She was new and exciting and I'm so angry right now? What the fuck am I doing? How do I tell Quatre?

Alright, I'll explain…

* * *

Duo slipped into my apartment when I called out "It's open." The resignation in my tone was obvious to us both. But I was in a strange mood. I leaned against the wall of my hallway, not folding my arms in a position that implied me being closed off and unreceptive to whatever he had to say. Just waiting. His face was shadowed as he entered, expression guarded. There was a silence before he spoke. It didn't hurt, but it didn't help either.

"You busy?" he ventured. I shook my head. There was a strange look between us then, before I decided to be nice and hosty.

"Come in," I moved towards the main room. "What's up?"

Duo passed me where I stood, entering the main room. He took a seat on my crappy sofa, leaving me my comfy chair, the only indulgence of my furniture purchases, I wasn't sure how long I'd be here when I'd moved in last year. I sat down too, folding my legs underneath me. I'd offer him a drink later if he was still here. He spoke on cue.

"Fei's on a mission, him and Heero. They haven't reported in." Duo didn't need to state the obvious, he was worried sick. Observant as I pride myself on being, if you'd asked me directly after the war who was the biggest worrier of the five of us ex-pilots, I would have pegged Quatre for definite. Now I know that Quatre worries about anything and everything at random, whereas Duo is more consistent and persistent. Admittedly, Wufei and Heero both failing to check in at a scheduled time while on a mission was indeed odd. Normally Duo would have gone to Quatre with this stuff.

"I know we aren't that close," Duo confirmed for me, "but I kinda need someone to talk to and, well, Quatre's…" he didn't finish that, probably didn't want to say 'bad' or 'upset', I knew though, Wufei had told me. Once again I made it easy for Duo.

"He doesn't need something else to deal with right now. It's fine Duo, are you … gonna be okay?"

Duo nodded, but his expression hadn't really changed since he arrived. I schooled my own features back into a blank. I try not to do it so much anymore, appear nonplussed when I'm not. It's scary, the ease with which I can pull it off, put a mask on that says 'ignore me'. Just like during the war. People are often quizzical about how I infiltrated Oz with such an unusual hairstyle. It's easy for people to ignore even peculiar hair or dress, if you show them nothing of yourself in your face. We sat in silence for a while, as I listened to Duo's silent lie and he watched mine.

I pondered going to university. I'd taken the tests and interviewed, a thoroughly unpleasant experience, and secured a place. Term started soon now, I'd been so busy with Quatre, it had snuck up on me. I was surprised that Wufei hadn't wanted to continue his studies after the war. One of the first things I learned about him on Peacemillion was that he had been a scholar. I think he felt it safe to tell me, who had no memories to compare him to of judge him against, of his love of the pursuit of knowledge. So why not go back to that? He explained that, having gained a new perspective on the world and space, he felt that he would be too frustrated with such dusty historical accounts as he had been used to. He was sure that such sheltered opinions and inexperienced points of view would only depress him now. And he felt the need to continue to 'aid the cause' I'm sure. It was one of the things Duo loved about him the most.

I moved, on a compulsion, to sit next to Duo on the sofa, offering a shoulder openly, little reserved. He took advantage of the invitation and put his arms around me, burying his face in my polo shirt sleeve. I stroked his back selfishly, feeling slightly guilty at my eagerness at this caress but enjoying it anyway. Intimacy was something that Quatre got me addicted to. Despite my love of solitude, too much, too little human contact caused an ache in me, which Duo soothed so well. I felt I should give him some more back.

"You can stay for dinner if you like," I offered. "I haven't decided what to have yet though." He pulled back a little, but still held me loosely at the waist. Stereotypical tactile L2 baby. What such stereotyping made me, I wasn't sure. I fitted the reserved, solemn profile of L1 more than L3 where I've spent more of my time. Duo's eyes were suspiciously bright but he finally looked hopeful.

"Thanks a lot man, I really do appreciate this," he told me honestly. "I wish 'Fei hadn't gone, but then I always do." He looked a little sheepish, Duo might love that Wufei feels such a need to help people, but it didn't make him any happier about the danger Chang put himself in regularly. He drew back from me completely to rest up against the arm of the sofa; I felt a pang as his touch faded from my sides. I stood up.

"Une or Sally know you're here?" I asked, ex-pilots were informed of mission updates by such high status individuals. Duo shook his head.

"Won't matter, I wasn't home when Sal called, she has my mobile." He looked a long way up at me from the couch, I've grown a lot since the end of war, and I was already the tallest of us during it. He was considering me, I realised.

"Wu said you were… confused, I guess." He let it go as a statement, not pressuring me to answer. I was struck by the urge to reply anyway.

"I think Quatre's taking it harder than me." I didn't feel like making it easy for Duo though, I knew he had been dealing with Quatre but he hadn't said much to Wufei, hadn't heard the other side as it were.

"Q might be able to help himself better soon. I know it's not your problem anymore, man." He did his best not to sound accusatory; I tried not to take it as such. Tried.

"He's the only one who can, in the end." My reply was curt, my throat tight. Duo shook his head.

"I know, I can only guess at how frustrating it was. It's no way to carry out a relationship, especially cos you care…" he picked at the fraying arm of the couch. "None of us are 'normal', socially, it's no wonder we keep screwing up," he tiled his head to one side. Looking appraisingly at me like that, I got a flash of Wufei. A chill went through me then. They had to be alright. For their sakes and ours. Duo continued his inspection of the cream couch thread for a minute, then asked,

"Are you happy, happier, now?"

I nodded, almost without thinking, it was a revelation of sorts for me. It really shouldn't have been, I've told myself enough times. Belief was never my strong point. Duo smiled, not overly large, a real smile, just with pleasure. Then his expression darkened. Wufei.

"Let's go out," I blurted, impulse hijacking my lips, as I suddenly needed to be more occupied with action and less with my thoughts. Duo blinked, then grinned vaguely.

"Sure," he assented. "Good plan." He rose from the couch and brushed imaginary lint from his black jeans. My own clothes suspiciously resembled the generic outfit I wore to pilot Heavyarms and I felt the sudden need to free myself of everything, especially the immediate past, for the evening. Ironic when I spent so much time searching for it. Now I want to ignore it with a clear conscience.

"Let me get changed," I strode into my room and flicked through the wardrobe, looking for something to disguise me. I think that's partly why Wufei and Heero are where they are, they can't forget, can't hope the past will go away. Duo, I guess, is making the effort, probably doing as well as me. And Quatre's been overwhelmed by normality and all its pressures. Guilt washed over me as I think how close he's seemed to drowning recently. But he nearly dragged me under with him; I'm not that great a swimmer. That's the trouble with stream of consciousness, I tend to get overly poetic. Still, I do hope that he'll find his way back to shore, he deserves that as much as the rest of us. He's just better off working it out for himself.

I pulled out a tight red short-sleeved shirt and a pair of buckled trousers, a little goth; it was how I felt just then. I contemplated earrings and settled for a single silver spike, slipping into the bathroom to change. My hair won't do anything other than it's own thing, I like my bangs this long, so I left it as was. Duo looked approvingly at my outfit, we matched fairly well. He's never given up the black; his shirt had subtle flames at the cuffs and hem.

"After you," I gestured to the door, grabbed my jacket from the hook in the hall and locked up behind us. We headed out into the chill night breeze, faces blank as the early night sky.

to be continued...

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Please leave a review, all opinions will be taken into account, well, except if they're along the lines of 'never write anything ever again'. Constructive comments are really useful though!_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: don't own 'em, never will.

Warnings/Pairings: language, Trowa POV, yaoi, het.

Sequel to 'Not the End of the World: Part 1', but can be read as a stand alone piece.

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**Reset**

We went out for dinner at a modern restaurant named Cleopatra's. To say it was a curious affair would not only be terribly twee literally, but also an understatement. Viewed from the outside, I was reminded of a Roman pre-colony era temple; large columns and slightly slanting roof. Part of me was relieved that I hadn't been dragged to the local vibrating gothic club, I wasn't keen on such places despite my attire. There always seemed to be too much time to think there, despite the thrashing music, or perhaps because of it, my mind inevitably wandered. We didn't come out to think, more to avoid the brooding which threatened us both.

I held back my trepidation at this curious unknown and followed Duo quickly up the stone steps, two at a time. I paused behind him as the charcoal suited bouncer, a burly man, yet entirely non-threatening to either Duo or myself, asked him for ID. Duo presented him with a possibly not deceptive passcard that summarily ran through the man's hand held scanner as legitimate. It turned out that it was, officially Duo had been 18 for a month; though he has no clearer an idea of his real birthday than I do.

We'd been given a choice, in the end, out of the dates in the 2-month time period that the latest in medical testing could manage to pin our chronological ages down to. The first four months after the end of the war had been monotonous, a time to reflect for better or worse. They consisted primarily of jumping through hoops and getting tangled in all the red tape that the government officials and the judicial system had enforced upon us and the press had rejoiced in reporting. And we'd barely retained our semi-anonymity, receiving a pretty plastic card, sheltered accommodation and child benefit while we were minors, for our compliance. It turned out I wasn't that much older than Duo, just taller really, I celebrated my coming of age only few months ago. But that responsible age is different depending on where you are anyway. Earth had only just accepted us as adults whereas L2 and L3 had for two years now, and L1 set it's legal age of maturity as 17.

It would have been so much easier for us to go and hide out on one of those more liberal colonies when the hostilities were over. But after the war, none of us really wanted to leave the fragile safe-holds we'd developed and be alone again just for the sake of an easy life. And we'd ended up on earth. We've drifted apart now, as I think even normal teenagers do around this age, having grown up and found the driving inclination to be independent and strike out on their own. But for those first few months at least, we had all needed it, even Heero who could be more reserved than me at times.

The more I think about it all, in the wider context of life, the lighter my mind becomes. Perhaps by the time the train stops my anger will have dissipated. Perhaps I should be embarrassed by my childish fit of pique. Even if I am an adult, I don't think I could be responsible all the time. Definitely not for anyone else. I don't deserve to be so angry. It wasn't even anything that we'd agreed on. I know, I'm getting ahead of myself again.

We entered Cleopatra's which was, internally, positively bizarre. Duo murmured something to me about it having been a church, and from some ecclesiastical remnants that much I could confirm. There were arched, stained glass windows and above us as we walked in, a balcony for a choir, with a semi-abandoned space where an organ had been. On the ground floor, there were old pews, which had been converted into benches. They lined the walls or attended long wooden tables. The other furniture was all pre-colony style, shiny steel in construction. The steel wasn't all that was at odds with the ecclesiastical ambience. There were aluminium wire art structures hanging from the ceiling, and boarded up windows between the stained glass. Fairy lights flashed neon behind the bar as we elbowed out way through the crowds for Duo to request a vodka and coke for himself and, for me, a Tia Maria. I've been told it's a 'girly' drink by connoisseurs of alcohol, but I never really cared what people thought of such things. I very rarely drink, mostly because I don't like the taste. This I liked and how I looked, girly or otherwise didn't matter right now. Duo certainly didn't mind, and he was the only person here I knew.

Or so I thought. As it turned out, Hilde was also present in the bar. She made her way over to us as we received out drinks, paying the bar-girl and casting about for a place to sit. She'd spotted Duo's braid snaking its way past her only meters away and, in the noisy gathering, had opted not to call out from across the room, but glomped Duo from behind with only a "Hiya baby!" as a warning. It was the only reason she wasn't flat on her back in a stranglehold. War trained self-preservation instincts were something she had learned quickly during the war, and heeded well ever since.

"Hilde! What are you doing here? How are ya?" Duo greeted her enthusiastically having established the source of his hug. Hilde grinned and gestured to her side where a taller girl with wavy blonde hair and little oval glasses stood wearing a bemused smile.

"This is Shorya, we're having a girls night out, but I'm sure she won't mind joining up if you don't, I haven't seen you guys in ages! What have you been doing?"

Hilde continued to ramble, but I tuned out, content in the fact that Duo had been successfully distracted from worrying over Wufei and Heero for the time being. I'd been dreading trying to keep up conversation myself with him all night. I suck at small talk and it usually doesn't actually stop you from thinking abut whatever's on your mind anyway. I took a gulp of my drink, and when I looked up, Shorya stood next to me, eyeing my glass.

"They seem pretty occupied," she smiled in indication that she was fine with Hilde ignoring her for a bit to catch up with Duo. "What are you having…?"

"Trowa," I supplied. I offered her the rich brown liquid, ice cubes clinking on the side. "It's Tia Maria."

She took my proffered drink and took a sip cautiously. Handing it back to me, she raised an eyebrow and swallowed.

"Coffee, nice, but a bit syrupy for my tastes," she commented, looking me straight in the eye. I froze for a second, not instantly tearing my gaze away as I usually do when pinned like that. I found myself contemplating her pert little nose and grey eyes. My mouth took control from my brain and grinned, a little crookedly. I rarely talk to girls, they don't usually pay me much attention after I ignore them resolutely. Call it antisocial, it's probably accurate, but I've never any real interest, physical or otherwise.

I could dimly hear Duo and Hilde's exaggerated tones, but didn't listen. Shorya tilted her head to one side, still looking directly at me and now with an expectant, expression. I blinked and attempted to process these gestures logically. I failed. She was looking me up and down, assessing me. I've seen Yuy do less thorough threat assessments while passing through enemy territory. Her smile turned sultry as she saw me swallow and try not to look at her at all. I'm not sure what face I pulled at that point but I felt a queasy sensation run through me, felt an unwanted heat in my groin before holding out my glass again.

"Could you hold this, I need the bathroom?"

She took it with a questioning "Sure?" I wormed my way quickly through the crowd towards a little passage with a Men's sign above the entrance.

A cacophony of thoughts pounded through my brain, heart thumping, my body reacting irrationally to such a non-situation. _Hello, rebound! Just how screwed up are you, aren't you supposed to be gay, dumbass? Well hiding in here is not exactly a good idea! Duo will tell Quatre, why should that matter!_ Did I mention that my most panicked thoughts are voiced by a hyperactive Maxwell?

Breathing a little heavily, I splashed some cold water on my face. The bathroom was white and purple tiled, with, with little tinted spotlights set into the walls. It was different enough from the rest of the establishment that it fit in perfectly. Holed up in a bathroom, hiding from a girl, I was stooping to new lows I realise. Maybe I've hit bottom now?

* * *

The train is still moving, it's getting a little dusky outside, the flat scenery dim and indistinct. I watch the lights in the distant houses, set far back from the rails, flash past. The more iridescent leave after-images tracked across my vision as I stare, unfocussed. I shake my head, my mind goes temporarily blank. I wish it would stay blank forever. No such luck, I knew that wishes were a bad idea right now. I need a drink. Maybe, definitely not. I need coffee. I fall back on the old automatic movement style I relied on a lot when I was younger. So much of mercenary life was simply having to move through time, auto-pilot would do. I found it was easier to not think too much about it, to get so absorbed in a task that it didn't seem to take so long anymore. Finding my way down the carriage, I fish out the little change I have in my trouser pocket and get some coffee from the little dispensing machine. It's too hot to drink immediately, so I go through the process of blowing it cooler before settling back in my seat.

* * *

How could I have been so stupid, I can't believe my lack of control, of self-restraint? Having convinced myself to stop being such a coward and get back out there, I retrieved my glass from Shorya who looked a little pu out that I was now trying to avoid eye contact. We sat down at the little metal table that Duo and Hilde had secured for us, where she continued to observe me patiently. I remained pretty calm, managing to put random comments into the conversation about nothing that the verbose pair of friends kept up for the next hour. Hilde managed to drag out Shorya's 'latest gossip'. It didn't mean all that much to me, I managed to fathom that her last boyfriend, who she'd split up with a few weeks ago was being an ass and wouldn't leave her alone. He'd been in the pub they'd gone to earlier, hence why they'd come to Cleopatra's.

I went to get a second round of drinks, sticking with my favourite, cocktails this time for the ladies and Duo. The conversation had not moved far along when I got back.

Most of the protagonists names meant little to me, Duo seemed to know of a few of them, and made conciliatory noises in the right places. Through the recitation of the ex-boyfriend's crimes I got more and more irritated. At a person I'd never met. I was confused, but mostly angry. Not a feeling I get too often. I decided to try and ignore my scrambling thoughts and focus on wherever the conversation had moved on to. It didn't really help.

to be continued...

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_Just wondering if anyone read this far? If so, leavinga review would be fantastic!_


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Language, implied heterosexual sex

Thanks: to smiley, forgetfull and kayinchan for reviewing, you guys rock!

Notes: I'm not entirely happy with the end of this chapter, it cuts rather abruptly to keep this thing rating 'T' rather than 'M'. Also, don't hate me yaoi fans, drunken stupid things happen, consequences have to be dealt with, that's the point of this fic.

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Attention Seeking Behaviour.**

I don't know why I drank so much that evening. I can tell myself it was to calm myself down after my irrational irritation at Shorya's story, to drown my sorrows over the whole of what was still an uncomfortably fresh break-up with Quatre, and to keep Duo company. But I certainly didn't need to on the last count, Hilde was far more able than me to distract Duo from his worrying over Wufei's whereabouts. I maintain, in my defence, that Shorya kept me supplied for the last hour, after I realised I really should stop buying myself. At some point I realised I'd not had dinner. Neither had Duo, but he'd been snacking on Nacho's and pickles and other concoctions from the snacks menu. My troubled stomach wasn't keen to partake. I continued to drink instead. I think I danced, I know I was groped by at least three women as I stood at, or later on, leaned heavily against, the bar. I talked utter crap. I talked to Shorya for over an hour once she had me off guard enough to respond. I enjoyed it.

I'm glad Quatre wasn't there. I still cared what he thought of me, as I discovered at some point in my drunken haze. I was concerned then, over whether I'd been lying to myself about how I was taking our separation. But then Shorya dragged me back to our table and I had to concentrate on keeping my drink in its glass and not tripping as we wound through the closely packed bodies at the bar.

Hilde and Duo were just visible on the dance floor. I'm not sure if what they were doing was technically dancing but they looked pretty happy doing it. I sat down heavily in the chair I'd draped my jacket over. Rather than her former seat around the corner of our little steel table, Shorya sat on me, straddling my lap. This close, I could smell the gin and lemon on her breath and feel how warm she was through her sheer tights and my steadily tighter trousers. She linked her arms about my neck clumsily, and giggled.

"You're so sullen, lighten up!" She shouted louder than necessary over the base's throb beating from the live band on stage. Reaching behind her for her drink, she took a gulp and grinned at me broadly.

"What's to be afraid of? I'm single, you're single, I don't bite…unless that's what you like…?" she spoke into my ear, her hand running down my back and up under my shirt. Mmm, that was good, I didn't stop her.

"I'm gay," I reasoned with what little coherence I could scrape together. That was right, wasn't it. I didn't get attracted to girls. But this girl didn't seem to understand that. Neither did my body. I was a little surprised, given how much more alcohol I'd had compared to what I usually allowed into my system. I remember thinking 'I'm not really drunk, but I could be, I've had enough to drink to be drunk, so it's okay to do this. Because I could so easily be very, very drunk right now.' The lighting was dim, and the air thick. I felt strangely safe here, away from prying eyes yet clearly surrounded by others, all absorbed in their own worlds, all separated by only the thin veil of booze and darkness.

So I didn't resist when she kissed me or when she groped at my trousers, wriggling her hand down my boxers as they began to feel uncomfortably tight. And I moved an unsteady hand up to cup her breast. It was warm and pliant, responding immediately when I ran my thumb lightly across her nipple, large and satisfying to squeeze. I'd never felt a woman like that before. She gave a start and grinned at me, eyes suddenly more focused and demanding. Something more stirred in both of us and I dove my tongue into her waiting mouth as she thrust her hips forward to rub her pelvis roughly against my groin.

"For fuck's sake getta room!" came a slurred growl in my ear as Duo was suddenly draped heavily over my shoulder, almost touching foreheads with the woman I was kissing. He reached round Shorya, as she leaned back away from me, breaking our kiss, and grabbed my drink. With a bright eyed grin he downed it, I couldn't even have told him what it was at that point anyway. Before I could voice my objection, he had pulled Shorya to her feet, not looking entirely steady himself.

"Come on Mr. Clown. We're going home, Hilde's called a taxi." My bubble of safety burst; home suddenly seemed like a good idea and I stood up and grabbed my jacket. Putting it on was just a little too much effort, so I just held onto it as I gallantly put an arm round Shorya's marginally steadier shoulders, and we headed to the doorway on the winding path Duo wove, to join Hilde by the fence outside.

The cold night air did little to cool or clear my head, though it did bring Shorya's nipples to stand erect and starkly out from the stretchy deep navy material of her top. Normally I don't notice that kind of thing; normally I don't spend much time looking at girls' chests. I think it was halter style, possibly, I'm not an expert on women's clothing, I admit. I draped my jacket around her, as her little sheer cardigan did nothing to keep out the chill. I wanted our bubble back.

"How gentlemanly," she murmured, hugging me tightly and brushing up against me under the pretext of getting warm. The taxi arrived sooner than I'd have liked, and Duo and Hilde occupied the back seat, Shorya following them and was held there, lolling against Hilde, who smiled vaguely at her. That left the little fold down perch behind the driver for me. Duo seemed to be trying to hold in his mostly liquid dinner, but he wasn't that far gone I noticed, as he check his phone again and sighed. I should have reassured him, but I didn't feel like talking right then. The girls muttered to each other, interspersing their discussion with giggles and ominous looks, while I pondered whether I was going crazy. All signs tonight pointed to the likelihood I was, along with the possibility this was all subconscious backlash from Quatre and my previous 'relationships' in general. Men were evil, I concluded in a decisive tone that would make feminists proud.

"We know dear," Hilde responded and I blinked. I think she was the least drunk of all of us, probably why she'd thought to call a cab. I checked the cabby's display behind me, it was nearly two in the morning. I hoped they didn't have work later this morning. And I'd said that out loud. Fuck, I was completely out of it. Thank you to Hilde then.

"You're welcome, Trowa," came her lightly teasing response. I closed my eyes and concentrated on keeping my thoughts more internal. Shorya was watching me from under heavily lidded eyes as she 'hmm'-ed to Hilde's latest comment. She wanted me. She demanded nothing except my body in return. It seemed like such a bad idea, what she was suggesting with that look alone. I suppose it was. Go my alcohol soaked brain.

The taxi pulled up outside Hilde's, I realised with relief that 'home' meant here, my place was far away, and we staggered up the stairs, leaning on each other and the concrete wall. Hilde paid the driver, I made a mental note to give her something for that in the morning. She found her key to let us in. Flipping on the light switch in the hall, she headed for the kitchen, letting us stumble in and do complicated things like taking our shoes off. Hilde's good like that, she'll get you home safe but she won't mother you. She's a lot different than my first impressions of her after the war.

Duo made his way unceremoniously to the lavatory to throw up. Shorya made a disgusted face at the sound, but thought of Duo being violently ill didn't seem to turn her off me in the slightest. She draped herself over me, running her long nails down my back again and I couldn't help but shiver with desire. Hilde could be heard getting a glass of water and something from a drawer, probably antacid for Duo.

"You can have the spare room, the one on the right," she called, obviously assuming so much in that simple statement. She was right to though. I can't say I went unwillingly, I failed utterly to resist as Shorya plunged her tongue as far into my mouth as she could. Stepping clumsily, hastily backwards, she pulled me into the dark room, working on my trousers' buckle as she did so. We moved together to collapse onto the queen-size bed, not bothering to push back the covers.

I had the overwhelming urge to see her naked and we didn't speak, occupying our tongues with each other's bodies as we removed our clothes in the dim street light that flowed through the partially closed curtains. As our eyes adapted we could make out our faces again. It hardly seemed to matter. I'd left Quatre, I definitely wasn't over him, I needed something now and this was on offer. But I wished that it was more than what it seemed. I couldn't be needed like Quatre had needed me, not again, but being wanted was wonderful. And I wanted her so much then, wanted to see her, wanted to pleasure her and to make her want me more.

I fumbled for the bedside light and we both squinted in the sudden brightness. I reached for my wallet on the floor by the bed and, with the little dexterity I still possessed despite the drink, fished out a condom, there from habit rather than forethought.

"I want to see you," I said, and reached down her dark body to caress her. She didn't reply, just smiled at my touch and gave a little sound of pleasure. I ran my hands through her wavy hair, glinting white in the pale street light. I gasped as she dipped her head to nuzzle my chest.

I gave her everything she asked for, hesitantly, inexperienced as I was at first; then with more confidence and passion. As the night sky began to turn a dull grey, we collapsed into the damp sheets, satisfied and spent.

To be continued…

_

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Please don't hate me! Or at least read the rest before hating me. This is not the end and is still essentially a yaoi fic, promise. Like I said, people do stupid things whilst drunk, plus I personally think that relatively few people are exclusively gay or straight. That said, I don't think Trowa's going to find a female to spend his life with. Not in this arc anyway!_


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not my characters

Warnings: yaoi and het relations, angst, stream of consciousness, Trowa POV

Notes: Starts in the current time period, the flashbacks are now earlier that sameday

_Not the End of the World: Part II - 4/6_

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**Transitional Period**

The longer I sit here listening to the repetitive clack of the rails, the calmer I get. Unfortunately, my anger seems to be systematically replaced by guilt. Quatre's influence no doubt. I really can't decide if I have the right to be angry about what happened this morning or not. I don't think it matters if I am any more. And I've not even got my phone to call, check the others are okay. I could use the credit-phone in the net carriage but that's not the point really. The only person I've taken it out on is myself. Well, that's not entirely true. Hence why I feel rather guilty about this train ride I've undertaken in such a cowardly fit of pique. I didn't take off all those times I wanted to leave Quatre, for precisely the reason that I would make people worry. And now I have run away, finally, pathetically. Pushed not by the man I thought I loved, but by a girl I met, what, just twenty-four hours ago, less? I can try to convince myself that I waited until Duo was okay. It's not true though; I didn't really consider my friends who were potentially in danger, nor did I pause to comfort Maxwell as he worried. Hilde's arrival back Earth-side had coincided nicely with my 'flaking out' or whatever you want to call it, and running. I owed her after this. I owed them all for adding to the already tense situation.

For a while I had fled without direction, so appropriate at the time. Looking back, there's a sickening closeness to my weeks spent wandering colonies in the middle of the wars. Back when I didn't know who I was, where I could go, when I would be safe. Such thoughts make me shudder; it is a part of my life that I think about as little as possible. But I know that I'm tempted to retreat there if the only other option is too feel too much. Feelings that hurt worse than that nothingness are what I fear the most. I cross my arms against the sudden cold that isn't there.

One of the main reasons I didn't go back to stay with Catherine and the circus once we were released from government custody was the space travel between colonies. Even the short trips around L3 left me with nightmares and a crawling discomfort I couldn't escape for days afterwards. I've been told I'm lucky it didn't affect me at the end of the war.

I asked the government provided counsellor about it once. He said it might have been because I was so driven back then; the adrenaline rush, the sense of purpose, overrode the fear. But I couldn't continue like that, travelling in space with nothing to do, no enemy to face, no battle to survive. All I could think of was the encroaching loneliness and the pitifully thin walls of the spacecraft, which kept me alive, as we drifted through infinite nothing. And I couldn't quite let go of the fact that Quatre was the reason for it. I tell myself that it wasn't him, that the Zero system took charge, twisted his grief and morbidly, fatally, redirected it. I tell him so regularly, or at least I used to. But it still hurts. I shake my head and avoid looking into the inky night, speckled with stars. What the hell am I doing? Why am I here? A question that maybe I can answer at last.

* * *

I woke on Saturday, this morning, at around 7.30 am. I was still used to getting up when Quatre did, though we'd not shared a bed for the last month. At eight he used to go to work, and I set off for school halfway across the city at nine o'clock. I wonder if he'll continue to blow off work much longer without giving any real reason? Anyway, weekends don't tend to change my sleep patterns. Mostly because I have no social life, not unless something like last night happens. Hilde, Duo, and apparently Shorya do however, and make the most of their Friday nights, which become Saturday mornings. I supposed it was still early then, but having pulled on my boxers, I was padding towards the kitchen when I realised I had woken alone. I felt a sudden chill, but noticed that Shorya's shoes were still in the hall where she'd left them. She was in the house, she'd probably gone to the bathroom or something.

I set up the coffee maker. The smell helped to wake me up and I grabbed a bagel from Hilde's bread bin. She had become more or less part of our peculiar little group, I'd got to know her, as well as I knew Duo I think. We saw her frequently in the months after our 'non-dangerous to the public' ruling from the combined government. She helped in our subsequent venture into the normal, boring, complicated world as 'regular teenagers', already used to it from before the war.

I checked Duo's mobile, which lay with his wallet on the sideboard. He must have been really quite ill last night to not have kept it with him. Still no new messages. Damnit, where were they? Wufei knew better than to leave us hanging like this, even if Heero still wasn't the best at social niceties. I took a half-hearted bite of bagel and sat down to wait for the coffee, musing at my lack of hangover. Lucky me. I'd never had one before, but since I figured that they were proportional to how much you drank to a large extent, I deserved one now. The slight headache was nothing in comparison to what Duo had been known to complain of, he'd been using fake ID's for a while, claiming he'd follow L2 laws since he had dual citizenship. I scratched my chin and pondered whether I could be bothered to do something about my lightly stubbled visage. I decided it wasn't worth the bother; it wasn't long enough to look scruffy yet.

Duo's groan sounded from the direction of the living room, he must have spent the night there since Shorya and I had occupied Hilde's only spare room. I heard his uneven footsteps approaching and a grumble. It could have been something along the lines of 'please let there be paracetamol and strong coffee in there' with a plentiful supply of expletives thrown in.

He half-staggered in, hair sprutting out of his braid and looking decidedly odd with a hairy face worse than my own. It struck me oddly. Heero and Wufei would look different but not too weird with facial hair, and I'd woken up with Quatre enough times to become accustomed to his pale blond shadow. But Duo growing a beard seemed wrong somehow. I wasn't really surprised that he could, but he was usually so clean-shaven. His face hadn't changed that much in the last three years I've known him, he'd retained that androgyny that made him so alluring. So the fuzz was, well, odd was the best word I could come up with for it just then.

I placed painkillers in front of where Duo had slumped down over the table and he swallowed them dry as I poured him coffee.

"What time is it?" Duo sounded like his throat was raw, the way he croaked out the words. Maybe he'd carried on talking with Hilde after Shorya and I took to the bedroom. No, that didn't seem right…oh yeah, he'd been throwing up. I really should find Shorya, I decided. Glancing at the clock on the microwave I saw it was nearly 8 o'clock. Duo groaned again as I told him the time and informed him of the lack of news. I put a hand on his shoulder and he nodded vaguely, so I left him to nurse his coffee while I looked for Shorya.

Heading past the dining room I heard her talking to someone, giggling at whatever they'd said. I put my head around the door and saw that that someone was on the other end of her phone. She was perching on the edge of a chair, one leg tucked up under her. Her hair was ruffled from the night and she had on an extra large tee-shirt, one of Hilde's from the look of the slogan. It was unrevealing with a hint of suggestion all the same. I grinned at the unbidden, but not unpleasant thoughts that sprung to my mind and stepped into the room. Spotting me though, she frowned in my direction and made a shooing motion. A little disappointed, I took the hint and realised I felt rather grungy.

I stopped in the bedroom to pick up my clothes, which smelled of smoke from the club. I really didn't have a choice in the matter of what to wear, so I took them with me to meet Hilde emerging from the bathroom. She was looking her normal perky self, but paused when she saw me. I gestured to the bathroom.

"May I?"

"Help yourself." For a moment I thought that she would say more, but she shook her head slightly as she obviously thought better of it and moved past me into her bedroom.

As I showered, I went over last night in my head. I'd definitely enjoyed it. Enough that I wanted to do it again at least. Did that mean I wasn't gay? Did it make me easy? I decided it didn't matter. In this day and age, people didn't really mind what you did in your lov…your sex life, as long as it was legal. Had I been any good? A strange question, I'd never asked myself before. I'd never been the less experienced one in a sexual situation before though, not since I'd had partners I cared enough about to worry myself over such things. Shorya had seemed pretty satisfied with it; I couldn't have been that bad, I concluded. I wondered whom she was phoning. Maybe she was expected to be somewhere this morning. Hilde hadn't said anything about it, though I'd half expected her to. I hoped she wasn't annoyed that we'd had sex in her spare bed. I didn't feel guilty exactly, but I'd never done it in someone else's house before, except Quatre's that is.

As I rinsed my hair, I recalled the times Quatre and I had made love on his couch. That was part of what was so good about last night. It had been different, and fun and I'd not thought about him, not in the moment. And I'd felt good about me. And I really wanted to do it again. So why did something tell me this situation wouldn't all be so great if I really thought about it? Why did my chest suddenly hurt?

I hit the button to stop the water and pushed the shower door open. I'd slept with a girl I'd only just met and I'd fallen for her, hard. I wanted more. I didn't know her last name. And I'd woken alone. I wrapped a blue towel from the rail around me and sat down on the cold tiled floor, my hair falling wet into my eyes. The rapidly cooling water dripped down my face.

Who was she phoning?

_To be continued..._

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_I was going to wait until someone reviewed the last chapter before I posted this, but that may never happen, so here this is. As always, please review if you enjoy!_


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: yaoi and het relations, angst, stream of consciousness, Trowa POV

Notes: current time period i.e. on the train, otherwise, it's earlier that day

Not the End of the World: Part II - 5/6

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**Deceleration.  
**

"What?"

I couldn't quite believe I'd heard her right, didn't _want_ to have certainly, though my voice lacked any note of surprise, that scared me more than her words had I think.

Shorya had finished her phone conversation with a little giggly and sickly sweet ' Seeya later, baby', and I'd felt again a creeping twinge of desperation as I slunk back downstairs in my shirt and trousers from yesterday. My hair was damp and the memory of the bar's smoke invaded my nostrils as if we were back there. But we were so far beyond that. I hadn't bothered shaving, my facial hair doesn't grow too fast anyway. I'd sat down in the main room where Hilde was looking at me oddly, on the border of nervous I suppose. For what I'd done last night or because she had a good inkling of what Shorya was about to divulge, I'm not sure. The girl in question entered lightly and grinned at Hilde. I was already irrelevant in her world. It hurt.

"That was Johnny, apologising," she gushed. Hilde grinned for her, but I could tell it was tempered for my benefit. I was ignored still, though perhaps Hilde was feeling slightly guilty. I wasn't mad at her, she was not responsible for her friend or me, myself. That wouldn't be fair to her. Still my breath hitched, mouth dry.

'Get out, get out, get out', that horribly defensive and vulnerable part of me who'd kept me safe so many times during the war was screaming. My pulse pounded in my ears as I blanked the two women, letting myself think of nothing for a minute. New, conflicting emotions threatened to choke me. 'You're not owed anything, you don't just get things for nothing in this life, grow up!' I sat still as everything I wanted right now fell apart.

Hilde was continuing,

"And he meant it?" And I was in a place to hear things but not really register them. It was safer that way, better to help me not run away.

"He's seen the error of his ways, dumped her when she started whining about everything. He's finally come to his senses," Shorya looked pleased with herself, I noticed through unfocused eyes. How could she? How could I still want her as she did this?

"You hated him last night" Hilde reminded her. Thank you Hilde. Shorya had hated him, or so she said. Was she so unspoiled, so pure that she could afford to hate and then forget, forgive, so easily? Had her words and actions been fuelled by drink and not been truly hers; had mine? 'Clearly' the voice in my head told me in a truly condescending tone. She was going right back to the man who'd done all sorts of uncaring, cruel things to her, if her ranting last night was to be believed. And I'd been ready to punch the guy's lights out. Why had I cared, it wasn't like me at all? I wanted her so much.

Shorya had the decency to look abashed at Hilde's comment, but she answered readily enough, "That's because I thought he was being a creepy weirdo and stalking me or something. But he was just desperate to tell me he'd realised his mistake! And when he saw us, he was just too worried that I wouldn't take him back, so he sat up all night getting up the courage to call me! Isn't that so sweet?"

Movement was impossible for a second. Which is where you came in.

"What?"

And still the cruel rational part of me tried to throttle me with the knowledge that I'd met this girl less than twenty four hours ago and what the fuck did I expect, commitment? How naïve was I anyway?

She had the decency to tell me how good I'd been or something, but I could hear the '…for your first time,' at the end of her assertions. Hilde looked at neither and both of us, clearly upset but unwilling to offer support to either of us and betray the other. I started to open my mouth again, to say what I didn't know, but a familiar calm came over me, as age old defences slammed down and I let myself retreat mentally from the situation.

It was not such a long haul from then to now, though I think my journey's nearly at an end, as I approach the literal terminus of the line. So allow me, forgive me, this little 'freak-out' and we'll try again for normal? I'll try again to not be so ignorant, outpaced and defeated by social and emotional newness, even though I've failed a million times before to deal. It was much easier to not try to understand the world, the emotions and actions of the people in it. Even when I followed Heero's advice on emotions back in the war, it wasn't like I was having to make choices. I just used his pattern to figure out what to do next. I was questioned extensively by the nice psychiatrist I was instructed to see as part of our 'rehabilitation into society'; also known as the Earth-Sphere Government's attempt to make sure we were safe to be let out in public. According to her, my more recent attempts to get a handle on people and their motives was a sign of emotional improvement, however much of a failure I felt like right now.

The shrink hadn't been too bad, once I'd convinced her that I was just anti-social rather than having Aspergers Syndrome or Borderline Personality Disorder. She'd done me the courtesy of explaining her reasoning and I'd explained why she was wrong. She treated me like an adult where Duo's counsellor had not, I heard many a rant about how he wasn't a child and not everyone who'd suffered a traumatic loss as a child was a 'freakin' nutcase'. My psychiatrist had talked to me matter-of-factly, not in a hostile fashion, and I think I did benefit from our sessions. She was pretty practical about some of the hang-ups I had about dealing with a real life not composed of killing and following orders without question, which was where most of my problems came from in the first place. But I'd never really gone into the sexuality thing with her and perhaps that was a big part of why I'd run from Shorya. My amnesia during the war I'd never mentioned either. But my tendency to run and block out stimuli had recently become more frequent and less controllable that it had been before. Maybe I should get that seen to at some point. But despite my good experience, once the compulsory nature of the sessions had gone, I had no more desire to see a medical professional than Quatre did. Which is probably why we both have such issues still, in part. Does everything come back to him? Maybe it does right now.

Shorya's expression had faltered as I let my face relax, creating a blank shield against her attempts at flattery. Hilde flashed me a concerned look, she never knew me during the war, when I wore my mask more often, but she has seen it since, I could never relinquish it completely. I need the net to catch me if I falter, just as I did then. Get-away seemed a good solution, escape, because something physical you can block and ignore. Emotions scar deeply and the guilt of existing just then was threatening to swallow me. Better to not feel, to just stop, just shut the door.

I stood in the corridor for a second, wondering how I'd arrived there. Then I realised I was leaving. Silently I donned my shoes and small jacket from the silvery hook in the hallway wall. Duo told me to wait, as he bounded down the stairs having seen me at the door. I didn't want to listen, but we're friends and I had a duty… no, it's nothing so cold, I have an altruistic reason to care for them, my fellow child soldiers, as they do for me. So I let a chink of me, my pain and desperation and instant claustrophobia into my eyes and Duo was clearly conflicted, moving towards his own outdoor clothes. He wouldn't leave me alone though, he knew I would need him, need my friends soon, even though I needed my solitude just then.

I moved out of the doorway, closing it firmly behind me, and set off at a light sprint down the street. At first I heard Duo's half-hearted call of my name and his footsteps behind me, but it was clear that he understood that I was going to run, to escape. So just for then, he let me.

At first I ran to loose myself in the purely physical exertion and exhilaration. Then I ran in case Duo had changed his mind and followed me. The streets were getting busier as I moved from Hilde's suburban back roads towards the bustling city centre. The smells from the bakers and cafes along the way were almost tempting but I was working up a ball of anger inside me as my blank state dissolved. Petty anger at the unfairness of everything, railing against my confusion and Shorya's complacent dismissal and against the world and colonies in general, it's stark and uncompromising injustice this morning. It helped to ground me, and I began to feel the slight chill in the air, wishing I'd brought my gloves, but they were at home and that was probably the first place Duo was going, just in case. Besides, my hot tempered masochism didn't want warm hands just then.

Don't look so surprised, I am a teenager, still, despite everything, in all the worst ways. And my excursion took me to the city's cramped railway station, the few credits in my pocket securing me a ticket on this train to nowhere.

And as you have seen, it was so easy to do what I always do given enough time. Always easy to run away. I know that Duo claimed, in the war, that that was his speciality, but I'll challenge him on locking down emotions and fleeing any day. What I hate the most is the guilt that's kicked in now. About everything and nothing. Make up your own mind as to whether I deserve it. The realistic part of me is pointing out something I really should have cued into a long time ago, but I tend to ignore my masochism too much. I don't only deserve this, I wanted it to happen just as it did, to feel that pain and rejection, some punishment for what I did to Quat.

Do I still feel like shit about it? Yes. I wouldn't tell him about her, about anything just now, it'd seem for all the world like I was trying to guilt trip him as he had me so many times, unwitting. That's the last thing I want. But wanting to be friends? I realise now that I do, maybe that's too much though. Maybe I shouldn't expect such a gracious move on his part when I left him flat like that. I knew he would feel bad, I tried to convince myself that he was strong, could deal, and while he will, I shouldn't have pretended to myself that he wouldn't hurt.

Revelations I should have been aware of so long ago. And what do I finally get? Closure? Well, an end to the road to nowhere. I still hate that I have the power to make people hurt, but I guess… I guess that sometimes bad things happen, to people who are basically good. There's still a selfish Quatre-shaped hole I want filled though.

I'd sat down in the semi-filled carriage and closed my eyes, senses still trained on the world around me, instincts not letting me tune out completely from the never present danger of a crowd. Never is too strong a word though, despite the resolution of the war, and I should be grateful for the edge it gives me over normal people. And I should be happy that that edge might save lives one day. I am. But mulling over thoughts seems to amplify them, make them worse and more important and horrible. So I mull.

I'm still mulling now, obviously, though I'm the last remaining passenger and the night is getting as cold as the chill this morning. There was a moment, just a minute ago, when I decided to stop, to do something positive and ring Duo. And I felt so guilty that he thought I'd called to find out if Wufei and Yuy were alright. They were. Guilt mixed with relief. I did as I'd intended, and told Duo where I was heading, hanging up before I could get asked difficult questions over the phone. They'd find me anyway, I always have that net even if I don't acknowledge it most of the time, I haven't covered my trail. _Should_ they be there for me though? Am I too much trouble, do I want to be, do I want them to think that of me? Maybe all three. Has my calling Duo alleviated my fault any? Always so many questions buzzing round my head when I get to thinking like this, a gentle whirr that gives me a headache in the end. I let it go on anyway. Until suddenly I don't want to think anymore, not in a blank way but a healthy acceptance of what is, not what it might be.

I crush the Styrofoam cup in resolution, then curse as the remains of the now cold coffee stain my hand and drip onto my dark trousers. I wipe at it ineffectually and let out a harsh laugh. It's loud in the empty carriage, with bitter humour and perhaps a little remaining self-contempt. Then my voice is joined by train steward Michael's tinny announcement over the speakers. He tells me it's almost over. Thanks Michael, for the company. No the journey's not been a good one, but it's served it's purpose. I know I have to get my head clear now, not later. I have to get over myself. And I hope so badly that someone's come to find me. I'm selfish, you should have realised my now. I need so much. I'm more human, more normal than I mind. But I'm me, I know that, I know myself and for that, at long last, I should be grateful too. I am grateful.

_To be concluded._

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_Thanks to everyone who's reading ,only one more part to go. Please review if you have time!_

_Also, it seems that songfic are not supposed to be posted here anymore, so I'm moving mine to media miner under the same name 'Taigne'. There's a side songfic to this story, from Quatre's PoV, which also be posted there if anyone's interested _:)


	6. Chapter 6

Warnings: yaoi and het relations, angst, stream of consciousness, Trowa POV

Notes: I know it's not exactly a happy resolution, but it's a realistic one I hope :-)

Not the End of the World: Part II - 6/6

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**No-Score Drawing.**

Now the train has slowed to a crawl, the yellow station lights seep into my carriage as we enter the terminus. Yes, I regret what's happened and, being calmer now, I know I could have saved a lot of trouble by just turning around and going back. But I really didn't want to. Quick re-hash. I realise that I shouldn't have done this. The nagging feeling of guilt that pervaded me every time I was struck with the desire to run away, was part of what kept me with Quatre for so long. I didn't run, because I thought people cared. Maybe they do. Maybe I'm so much more like Quatre than I'd care to admit. What am I going to do now? I draw my knees up to my chest in the back of the empty car as the train shudders, it's stopping now, the end has come too soon and there's nothing I can do about it, nowhere to go.

I still feel betrayed, but I have no right to. A part of me I thought I'd put to rest is begging me to run to somewhere no one will find me, no one will recognise me, no one will expect anything of me. That's what it all comes down to in the end. I want to be nobody, because nobody will expect anything of me. I'm so scared, ultimately, of disappointment. Of their disappointment in me. It was easier when I was just me. That's why I had to leave Quatre. I let him down so many times, I couldn't help him, couldn't be what he wanted. I might have helped if he'd known exactly what that want was for. But it's taken until now for me to run. I'm such a coward.

Let's make it all about me then. Because I should finally admit that I feel used. Used and unwanted. By someone who shouldn't matter to me, wouldn't have three years ago. I let myself care about too much. I wanted her to want me and let myself be vulnerable in front of her, showed her my need. My pride hates me, telling me it's my own fault for being so desperate for that instant. I can tell myself a thousand times that I'm allowed to want things for myself. That I'm not forced to follow everyone else's expectations. But I've never had such expectations. Not from people I want to please because I like them. I don't believe I can resist. If I could there might not be this sickening feeling that's threatening to overwhelm me as the train finally stops and the doors slide open one last time.

Michael's back, over the speakers, for one last pep talk. Please remember to take all my belongings with me and leave my litter in the compactor at the end of my carriage for recycling. I drop my partially compacted coffee cup into the little green labelled hole, where it will be reshaped, remodelled and be used again. It'll have a new life, be useful for someone else and you know what I wish. I have no belongings to take, my thin wallet is in my pocket, my jacket I never took off my shoulders.

I step down to the platform and sigh. 'Woe is me' and all that jazz. I blink and stand dumbly facing the scene before me. Duo, Heero and Wufei. I swallow as I catch a glimpse of Quatre sitting on a bench a little way off near an exit to the station's car park. Dragging my attention back to the trio in front of me, I can't actually think of anything. To say, to do, to prepare for what's coming, promised by the look on Duo's face. Wufei and Heero are twin blanks and as my eyes adjust to the poor platform lighting I can make out a large colouring bruise down the side of Wufei's face and a crisp white bandage around Heero's left hand.

My brain finally manages to make some connections and I realise that they're back, relatively unscathed and have come straight out to find me. Life was so much more simple when I wasn't so cared about. None of the mercs ever came after me when I ran off. A selfish part of me realises I might not have bothered running if no one had cared. A weak part of me is desperate to hug them all and cry like the little boy I am. I should say something really, but I still can't put thoughts into actions. I chew my lip.

Wufei's had on Duo's shoulder halts the tirade I was, no doubt, about to receive, but the glare he turns on me doesn't look promising. More pieces click together, they've come in Quatre's plane, that's how they beat me to the other end of the country despite my head start.

"It's not fair, man." Duo can be horribly succinct when he's not rambling. I think my face is showing something of the swirling confusion of emotions in my brain, because the next second he's hugging me. I cling to him and, resting my head on top of his bangs I manage a pathetic 'sorry'. I'm so grateful to Duo, we aren't the best of friends and yet he's come all this way for me.

Wufei approaches us and puts a hand on my arm as I pull back from Duo. I appreciate it as much as the hug.

"Got it out of your system?" Am I really that obvious? "I've been expecting you to do something like this for a while," he confides, shaking his head, and I'm struck again by how well he knows me. Part of me wonders if he knows what my catalyst finally was but I don't want to ask at all. Meanwhile, Duo's reaching around me to clip Wufei around his unbruised ear.

"Could've fuckin' told me! I swear I'm gonna meet Shinigami before I'm thirty, the shit you guys put me through!" It's directed at Wufei as well and I belatedly realise that some of Duo's anger is due to the obviously difficult mission as well. He has the cutest look of debate and indecision on his face for a second before he flings an arm around Wufei and pulls him close so he can embrace us both. Over Duo's head I see Heero nod to me. We're both men of few words and I understand. We've got a last hurdle to pass though, now I really want to go home.

Heero glances back and I follow his gaze to Quatre, still sitting on the cold metal bench, staring fixedly at the ground. I wonder idly whether we attracted attention with our little reunion, but there aren't very many people around at this time of night. It must be past eleven by now. There's no-one to see us here, you never lose the ability to sense when you're being watched. I've been childish enough for one day, I decide. I tell Heero 'no worries' with a look, as Duo finally pulls away and Wufei takes a step back.

"I…we came in Quatre's plane." I give him a tight smile. Quatre doesn't look up, if he's heard. Quietly I respond.

"It's okay, I can be grown up about it, I'm done being a dick for now." I try to mean it all. Heero's gone to fetch Quatre and as we move off I notice Wufei's slight limp.

"Mission alright?" Duo starts to bristle at my glib comment, but Chang cuts him off before he can get going.

"It's alright now. We had a total equipment failure, which someone back in Tech needs shooting for, and then a security breach. The imbeciles certainly picked in inconvenient place for a base. Luckily it was as much a hindrance to them as us."

I look pointedly at the stiff way he's walking. He purses his lips in his usual irritated expression.

"Don't you start, I've already had him giving me twenty questions. If you must know, I have a reasonably deep cut to the side of my knee and the stitches pull a little when I walk. Which I won't be doing when we get back on the plane." He adds the last quickly as Duo's clearly dying to mother his pert little ass. Now that was a weird thought, have I eaten today? Not that I can remember. Maybe I can blame such errant musings on that.

We take a taxi to the private airport where they've left the plane. Quatre and I acknowledge each other and it's rather uncomfortable but neither of us pushes and it doesn't get too unpleasant. Duo fusses over Wufei so that he doesn't have to be in any position to choose and Heero and Quatre sit on the other side of the couple in virtual silence.

My chest seems heavy and so light at the same time as we get on the plane. Maybe I am a loser and a hopeless fool, but I'm with friends who came out of their way to save me from any more of my stupidity. I think that's okay for now. And 'okay for now' is as good as it's been in a long time.

**End.

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_Please. /gets down on knees and begs/ Tell me what you thought? No one's reviewed the last three chapters. Tell me if it sucked, I'll try again!_


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